Born to run?

Springsteen sang it and I have to agree: some people were just born to run.

Like Pre:

and #1 here:

and definitely this guy:

And then there's me.

All 5 foot 2 and 1/2 of me.

Growing up, I never really had any desire to run. Because of my short stride, I've always had to work twice as hard just to keep up with my leggy jogging partners, who by the way were already running their ultimate slowest for me. My "sturdy" legs and low center of gravity always just seemed more conducive to hiking or biking (or football, if we're being honest). Plus, running is painful. Shin splints, sideaches, tight hips and sore feet- no thank you!

So what could have possibly motivated me to sign up to run a half-marathon this June?

Well, running turned out to be a surprising outlet for me in times of stress. A few years back my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. It was one of the worst times in my life. Living 189 miles from her, I felt helpless with all of this pent up anxiety and frustration. My legs would shake and ache in the night. To release it, I starting running more often. I didn't even enjoy running at the time, nor was I any good at it, but it was the only thing that gave me any relief from the worry. And the physical pain felt good. It seemed to help me release the emotional pain I had been gripping onto knowing that my mom felt so horrible.

Over the past few years I developed a newfound understanding of and respect for running. Running, for me, is no longer about being fast (which I am not and never will be). It isn't even about being fit or athletic (though #1 up there is cut!). Running has become a sort of physical meditation for me. And I usually suck at meditation. I am always so wiggly and distractible. But the physical exertion of running forces me to turn off the blabbering in my head and turn my concentration to my breathing, the rhythm of my steps, the passing pavement. It's funny how something so physical can teach you to quiet your thoughts and give your psyche a break. I think part of what makes getting through difficult times so hard is that we are constantly telling ourselves, "this is hard. I don't want to do this. I can't do this." But fighting it just makes it worse. The physical discomfort of running has taught me to settle in to pain, to embrace it and work through it, rather than avoid it. I have actively avoided pain, discomfort, and confrontation for most of my life (for obvious reasons), but as a brand-spanking new adult, I am learning that pain is ultimately a part of life and something we have to deal with.

So this has been my new mantra... in running and in life... "settle in." Just when the pain starts to kick in, my breathing quickens, and I want to quit- I tell myself to settle in. That I'm going to try to just "be" in this discomfort for a while, so I better get used to it and make it work. And the funny thing is... I keep running. At least a little further. :) And I think that if I practice this over the next couple of months, I might just be able to settle in to running 13.1 miles. And that will feel pretty darn good.

So I might have just changed my own mind about who is really "born to run." Maybe I was born to run afterall. Maybe we all were. Bruce really did have it right,

"Tramps like us, baby we were boooorrrn to ruuuuuuun!"

Check out Springsteen's biceps in this video: holy 80s!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IxuThNgl3YA